


Someone You Can't Imagine Living Without

by hazelNuts



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Canon Compliant, For the most part, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, POV Scott
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-09 16:30:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8899495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazelNuts/pseuds/hazelNuts
Summary: Or: The Five Times Scott and Stiles Say "I Love You" + The One Time It Felt Like A First Time Again
  Scott shakes the almost empty jar of glitter, like it will somehow double the leftovers, with a frown, and looks down at the Christmas card he’s making for his mom. He wanted to fill in the tree he’d drawn with silver glitter, but now he’ll have to settle for a mixture of blue and silver.
  
  ‘Didn’t you just get new glitter?’ he asks Stiles. He’s sure Stiles had gotten up a minute ago to get the jar from Boyd’s table.
  
  ‘That was all there was left,’ Stiles shrugs.
  
  Scott tilts his head, looking at his friend. There’s something about Stiles… He can’t put his finger on it, but he doesn’t think Stiles is telling the whole truth.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [volatilehearted (anomalagous)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anomalagous/gifts).



> For [anomalagous](http://anomalagous.tumblr.com/) for the Sciles Secret Santa.  
> I hope you like it, and happy holidays!!!  
> ♥ your Santa

☃

Scott shakes the almost empty jar of glitter, like it will somehow double the leftovers, with a frown, and looks down at the Christmas card he’s making for his mom. He wanted to fill in the tree he’d drawn with silver glitter, but now he’ll have to settle for a mixture of blue and silver. 

‘Didn’t you just get new glitter?’ he asks Stiles. He’s sure Stiles had gotten up a minute ago to get the jar from Boyd’s table.

‘That was all there was left,’ Stiles shrugs.

Scott tilts his head, looking at his friend. There’s something about Stiles… He can’t put his finger on it, but he doesn’t think Stiles is telling the whole truth. 

‘I can ask Miss Jennie if there’s more in the cupboard,’ Stiles offers.

‘That’s okay.’ Blue and silver are kind of pretty together anyway. 

Scott spreads what’s left of the silver carefully around the christmas tree, then, with the tip of his tongue poking out of his mouth, he fills in the gaps with blue. When he’s done, he pulls back and nods, satisfied with his work. All that’s left are some red dots with a glitter pen for ornaments, and for Miss Jennie to write  _ Merry Christmas _ with her fancy letters above the tree.

Now where is that red glitter pen?

Scott twists in his chair, checking all his classmates’ tables for the pen, and locating it on Lydia’s. He hops off his chair, but Jackson cuts him off and grabs the pen off Lydia’s desk before him, without even asking Lydia if it was okay. 

‘I need that,’ Jackson says and marches back to his chair. 

Scott claps his hand over his mouth when he’s sees Jackson’s back, not wanting to laugh at the other boy. Most of the others don’t seem to have that problem. A ripple of giggles moves through the classroom, until it reaches Danny who loudly says, ‘Jackson, you’re butt’s all shiny,’ with wide eyes.

Scott moves back to his seat, glancing at Stiles, who is sliding down in his chair, shoulders hunched, trying to hid his grin. So that’s where all the glitter went.

‘What’s going on?’ Miss Jennie asks from where she’s helping Greenberg, who’s glued his fingers to his scissors again.

‘Jackson’s butt is full of glitter!’ someone shouts.

‘And his chair,’ Danny adds, looking down at the seat next to his.

Miss Jennie quickly moves toward Jackson and turns him around. Jackson’s face is red with anger, and he’s staring right at Stiles, who’s face is red from holding back his laughter. Miss Jennie follows Jackson’s gaze.

‘Stiles, did you do this?’ she asks, a stern look on her face.

Stiles shakes his head.

He’s lying, of course. They all know he is. Jackson made fun of Scott’s inhaler during recess and Stiles had very loudly promised to get back at him for that. Scott hadn’t expected it to be this soon, though.

‘It was me,’ he pipes up.

Stiles’ eyes widen and he tugs on Scott’s sleeve. ‘What are you doing? You’ll get in trouble,’ he hisses.

‘So will you, with your  _ dad _ ,’ Scott hisses back. Stiles’ dad had been very clear that Stiles would be grounded during winter break if his parents had to come to school again before Christmas. Stiles had done this for him, so Scott doesn’t mind having to stay late today and not being allowed to watch TV for a couple days.

Miss Jennie looks sceptical, but there’s nothing she can do, so she sighs. ‘Alright. Scott I’ll have to call your parents. Jackson, go to the office and see if they have any clean trousers for you.’

‘I’m not going to put on someone else’s pants!’ Jackson protests.

‘Then you’ll have to put on your gym shorts. You can’t walk around leaving glitter everywhere.’

‘Like a unicorn!’ Lydia nods seriously.

‘Scottie…’ Stiles starts.

‘I did it because I love you,’ Scott says. It’s something he’s heard a lot on TV, his parents say it all the time, and it always sounds like a good reason.

‘You do?’ Stiles ask, confused.

‘I asked my mom how you know if you love someone, and she says that when you love someone you can’t imagine life without them, and they make you feel happy and warm inside,’ Scott explains, pressing a hand to his chest, ‘and sometimes you do things for them that you don’t like.’

‘Oh well, then I love you, too,’ Stiles smiles.

They both turn to watch Jackson grab his gym bag and march out of the room trailing glitter.

 

☃ ☃

Stiles is staying over again. It’s been happening a lot since his mom died. Scott’s not sure if it’s because Stiles is always reminded of his mom when he’s home and he misses her a lot, or if it’s because Stiles’ dad is working all the time now. Maybe it’s both. Stiles doesn’t really talk about it. Sometimes, though, at night, he’ll cry. Scott hears it, big gulps that make Stiles entire body shake, and quiet sobs that are betrayed by the way Stiles keeps sniffing.

It hurts Scott that his friend is hurting. When people say something hurts, and they mean that it makes them sad, he never imagined that it would  _ physically _ hurt. It’s like there’s a weight on his chest, like a huge rock, and there’s a small rock in his throat that he can’t swallow down.

The first time it had happened, Stiles fled to the bathroom when Scott asked him why he was crying. It had taken his mom almost an hour to get Stiles out again. Since then, Scott waits for Stiles to tell him what to do. When Stiles wants to be left alone, Scott puts some tissues and a glass of water next to Stiles. When he doesn’t, they sometimes sneak downstairs to play video games with the sound off, and other times Stiles will crawl into Scott’s bed. They talk, about all kinds of stuff, school, baseball, movies, dinosaurs, Batman. Sometimes they hold hands, sometimes they don’t. The thing Stiles never does, is talk about his mom.

He climbed in next to Scott a little while ago, and has been silent ever since. Scott’s doing his best to keep up the conversation all by himself, but his throat is getting scratchy and he’s running out of topics.

‘She was mad at me,’ Stiles says when Scott falls silent.

Scott frowns, not sure who “she” is for a moment, but when it clicks, he stays very still.

‘A couple days before she died. She got really mad at me. I’m not sure about what, but she…’ Stiles’ voice halts. In the dark, Scott can barely make out the track of the tears running down Stiles’ cheeks. He reaches out a finger and carefully wipes them away.

‘You said she was confused a lot. Maybe she wasn’t really mad at you,’ Scott suggests. He bites his lip the moment the words are out. Was it the right thing to say? Was it the absolutely  _ wrong _ thing to say?

‘Maybe,’ Stiles says. He doesn’t sound so sure. 

On impulse, Scott throws his arms around his friend and holds him tight. 

‘Even if she was mad, she loved you a lot. She always said so. You always got embarrassed by it.’ Stiles huffs and burrows into Scott. Scott tries to rub his hands up and down Stiles’ back the way his mom does whenever he’s upset. ‘And I know it’s not the same, but I love you, too. You’re my best friend in the entire world. And always will be.’

When Stiles starts shaking and his tears are soaking through Scott’s shirt, Scott freezes, thinking he made things worse.

‘I love you, too,’ Stiles answers between sobs.

Scott nods and holds Stiles a little tighter.

 

☃ ☃ ☃

Scott is hiding. He doesn’t want to go home. His mom is at work and his dad is gone. He can’t go to Stiles, because he hasn’t told him about his dad being gone yet. He’s not embarrassed, he’s angry and sad, and Stiles would distract him from that, because that’s what Stiles does. He’ll start talking and then he’ll suggest they go do something, like watch a movie or ride their bikes, and Scott will feel lighter afterwards.

He doesn’t want to feel lighter. He wants to be mad at his dad, because… Because his mom can’t. He knows his mom doesn’t want Scott to hate his dad, so she won’t be angry at him in front of Scott, and that makes Scott even more mad.

He’s not sure why he came to the library to hide. It’s so quiet and big, nothing but whispers and hushed footfalls. He lets his mind wander, thinks of all the things he wants to say to his dad, only to realize that he doesn’t want to  _ say _ anything, he just wants to scream.

‘Dude, I’ve been looking all over for you,’ Stiles says, his voice seeming loud after being so long in the quiet of the library. He drops down next to Scott, then nudges his shoulder. ‘What’s up?’

Scott clenches his jaw and shakes his head.

‘I know,’ Stiles says. ‘About your dad. I heard my dad and your mom talking. I’m sorry.’

‘It’s probably better,’ Scott says through clenched teeth. It probably is, but it doesn’t make him less mad.

Stiles hums, his feet tapping a nervous rhythm on the linoleum floor, his fingers drumming on his knees. Scott huffs. He can already feel the calming effect of having Stiles beside him.

‘You wanna go hit something?’ Stiles asks. 

‘Like what?’

‘Like a baseball, with a baseball bat. Or maybe we can go to the gym and get them to give us a free boxing lesson or something.’

Scott looks at Stiles, who’s brown eyes are wide and serious looking.

‘Okay,’ he says.

‘To which one?’ Stiles asks, standing up and then helping Scott off the floor.

‘The baseball. We can come up with a plan for the free boxing lesson while we’re doing that.’

‘I love you, man. I knew there was a reason I picked you as my best friend.’

‘I know,’ Scott grins.’

‘Wait, did you just quote Star Wars at me?’ Stiles gasps excitedly.

‘That’s from Star Wars?’ Scott asks. He thought it was something Stiles had come up with because he can be kind of an ass sometimes.

‘Nevermind. I can’t remember why we’re friends,’ Stiles groans, shaking his head.

 

☃ ☃ ☃ ☃

‘I’m out!’ Stiles yells from somewhere behind him. ‘I don’t care what you bribe me with! I’m out!’

‘I didn’t bribe you with anything!’ Scott throws over his shoulder. It’s not much further to the halfway point of their run, so Scott jogs back, grabs Stiles’ arm and drags him along. ‘Almost there,’ he assures him.

They reach the clearing with the picnic table Scott has been using as a rest stop for his runs, and Stiles sprawls over one of the wooden benches, breathing heavily, his shirt sticking to his torso. His shoulders look wider than Scott remembers.

Scott squirts some water in Stiles’ face from his bottle, laughing when Stiles starts flailing and almost falls off the bench.

‘So rude,’ Stiles mutters as he picks himself off the ground.

Scott’s laughter turns into a wheeze, and he digs his inhaler out of his waist pack. It looks dorky and really uncool, but he can’t keep his inhaler in his hand during runs either.

‘I can’t believe I’m in better shape than you,’ Scott grins after getting his breath back, putting his inhaler in the waist pack.

‘Lies! My shape is perfect. Exactly the one I was aiming for with my diet of curly fries and pizza,’ Stiles protests. He pulls Scott down on the bench next to him, his body a line of heat next to Scott’s, then steals his water and takes a sip.

‘Remind me again why you want to be on the lacrosse team so badly? And why I’m trying out, too?’ Stiles asks.

‘Because we both have exactly one friend…’

‘More than enough if any added friends might include Jackson Dickface.’

‘... and being on a school team looks good on college applications.’

‘Why couldn’t we have signed up for chess club, or a book club, or drama club?’

‘Because sports will also get us noticed by girls.’

‘Good point,’ Stiles nods. He groans and takes another sip of water. ‘Do we really have to run back?’

‘You can walk but it’ll take almost twice as long.’

‘You know that I’m only doing this because you’re my best bro and that I love you, right?’ Stiles asks.

‘Love you, too,’ Scott says, ruffling Stiles’ sweaty hair, then taking off before Stiles can smack his hand away.

 

☃ ☃ ☃ ☃ ☃

Scott digs his fingers into Stiles’ shoulders, keeping him in place. He’s vaguely aware that he’s holding on too tightly, that Stiles will have bruises, but he can’t loosen his grip, even if he wanted too. 

Stiles is also clinging, his arms are wrapped around Scott’s waist so tightly, Scott is sure Stiles could touch his fingers in front of Scott’s stomach if he tried. It hurts a little, and his breathing is shallow because his ribs have no room to expand.

‘I love you,’ they say at the same time, the words muffled in each other’s shoulders.

It sounds different from how it used to. It’s a plea, Stiles asking Scott to come with him and Scott asking Stiles to stay. It’s regret, Stiles apologizing for leaving and Scott apologizing for staying. It’s a confession, that neither of them wants this, that they want… more. Any kind of  _ more _ they can get.

But it can’t happen now. Stiles needs to get out of Beacon Hills, to a place where he isn’t haunted by nightmares, where memories of death aren’t around every corner, and Scott needs to make sure Beacon Hills is okay before he does the same. He’s the Alpha of this territory and he can’t leave until there is some kind of protection in place.

Stiles laughs, a short bark that sounds more broken than merry.

‘We’ll be okay. We’ll be okay. We’ll be okay,’ he whispers over and over into Scott’s skin.

‘We’ll be okay,’ Scott answers.

When they finally let go, they both have to take several deep breathes to catch up on the oxygen they’ve been deprived off during their hug. Scott winces at the bruised feeling of his ribs, but it fades almost as soon as he feels it. 

Stiles climbs in his car and the door shuts with a bang that is like a gunshot in the quiet of the morning.

‘Tell the others I’m sorry I didn’t say goodbye,’ Stiles says. He’s not looking at Scott. His eyes are closed, his head down, and his hands are clenched at the wheel. ‘Tell them I’ll call them. Sometime this week. Or next week.’

‘Stiles.’ Scott puts a hand on Stiles’ arm and Stiles snaps his eyes toward him. ‘It’s okay.’ It’s not okay. Nothing feels okay, right now. ‘I’ll see you soon.’

That, at least, he knows is the truth.

 

☃ ☃ ☃ ☃ ☃ + ☃

Scott cradles his mug in his hands. The hot chocolate is gone, but the mug is still a little warm. Plus, he doesn’t really want to move to set the empty mug on the coffee table or ask Stiles to do it for him. 

They’re watching  _ Elf _ , curled up on the couch in Stiles’ dad’s living room. Stiles is leaning back against Scott’s chest, the top of his head pressing against Scott’s cheek. If Scott turned his head he could kiss that mess of brown hair. Contentment is coming off both of them and filling the room. The only thing moving is Stiles’ leg, slowly swinging like pendulum. It’s not the nervous energy that always seemed to be bursting out of him when he was a teenager, or the anxiety and terror from those last couple years of high school. It’s lazy, thoughtless, happy. 

Leaving Beacon Hills was the best decision they ever made. It had hurt to leave everything they’d ever known behind, including each other for a while. But then things got better, and eventually they came back. First Scott, to become a partner in Deaton’s practice. Stiles came back permanently a couple years later with a small pile of Majors and a PhD, and decided to take over the Beacon Hills public library with them.

Scott glances down at Stiles’ face. He can’t really see him, just the tip of his nose, a hint of his lips, and those long lashes. That  _ something _ that’s been tugging in Scott’s chest for years whenever he’s around Stiles is there again, not tugging this time, but shoving at him to finally get off his ass and do something about it.

But he doesn’t want to move.

‘I have to pee,’ Stiles mutters, breaking the spell.

Scott snorts. 

‘But I don’t want to go,’ Stiles whines. ‘You’re so comfy.’

‘Then use your mug,’ Scott suggests jokingly.

‘ _ Eww _ . That’s disgusting!’ Stiles shudders in horror, then sits up with a huff and a groan. He rolls his head from side to side to work out a kink, then sets his and Scott’s mugs on the coffee table.

‘I love you,’ Scott says. Then he stills. He hadn’t meant to say it. He hadn’t even been really thinking it. He was thinking about how warm Stiles looks in the light of the christmas tree, how soft he looks in the big sweater he’s wearing.

‘I love you, too,’ Stiles smiles.

Scott’s heart almost sinks a little. He’d meant it differently from all those other times, and even though he hadn’t meant to say it, or meant to say it like  _ that _ , he’d hoped Stiles would pick up on it. But then Stiles is leaning over him and pressing a kiss to Scott’s lip, and Scott’s heart is soaring. Far too soon, Stiles pulls back.

‘I want to stay and make out with you, but I really do need to pee,’ Stiles mutters against Scott’s lips.

‘You’re ruining the moment,’ Scott berates him with a laugh.

‘I’ll give you a moment when I come back,’ Stiles says with a wink, walking backwards out of the room and almost knocking over the christmas tree.


End file.
